


Comfort

by Fulcrumisthebomb



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sticky Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-17 09:27:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4661463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fulcrumisthebomb/pseuds/Fulcrumisthebomb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ultra Magnus should've seen this coming.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Completely forgot I wrote this a few months ago. Enjoy!

Ultra Magnus was vainly attempting to muffle his laughter whilst reading Kup's latest report when his office door opened, a mech stomping into the room just outside of his peripheral vision. Huffing lightly in an attempt to dispel his humour, he was surprised to see his new Prime round his obnoxiously large desk, the firm determination inRodimus' face activating a series of internal warnings. What had put Rodimus- the sarcastic, whimsical speedster that spend most of his time finding new ways to make UltraMagnus bemoan his fate- into such a serious mood? Such a rare occurrence deserved his full attention, but before he could speak, Rodimus stopped beside him and raised a hand for quiet.

"I'm gonna do something," Rodimus stated in a low tone that was completely unfit for the young mech, "and I don't want you questioning me."

Half a second's pause, then Ultra Magnus opened his mouth-

"No, I just said  _no questions_. You  _can_  follow orders, right, Mags?"

Ultra Magnus bristled, drawing himself up in his seat. "You know I do not appreciate your unimaginative nickname for me."

Finally that stern expression softened as Rodimus' mouth curled into a smile, though it appeared bittersweet. "Fine, Ultra Magnus, no questions  _and_ I don't want any comments either.  _Ever_. Got it?"

Frowning, Ultra Magnus hunched again, bringing his helm closer to Rodimus' height. "I cannot agree to such a request without knowing what you're planning, Prime. If you're-,"

Rodimus' smile slanted sharply in a flash of anger, and Ultra Magnus was amazed to watch the young mech shutter his optics and release a slow vent before replying. "First, don't call me that. Not in here, alright? Your office is a- a no-title zone now."

An odd request, but doable. "Certainly, Rodimus."

"Good." Rodimus glanced up, looking so relieved Ultra Magnus had to stop himself from reaching out to pat his shoulder. "Look, it's nothing bad or stupid or anything, just- just go with me on this."

Ultra Magnus could nearly taste Rodimus' anxiety, and against his better judgement he found himself agreeing without further prompting. Kup was right; he was too soft on Rodimus at times, but there was something about the mix of dashing heroism and quiet desperation in the young Prime that often made him feel indulgent. There was too much of his own pre-war self reflected in Rodimus' bright eagerness overcompensating for his struggle with the burden of command.

His musing was cut short by Rodimus launching himself forward, landing in his lap and wrapping his arms around his neck in a single graceful move. Ultra Magnus jerked back in his seat but Rodimus was already glued to his frame, face firmly pressed against his neck cabling, the shapely legs nestled easily along his wide thighs. Reflexively his hands came up, hovering for a few seconds before they gently settled on Rodimus' back, holding him close.

Rodimus was hugging him, and from the fierce grip around his neck, was not planning to let go anytime soon. Whatever his logic processors had been afraid of moments before faded as he grew accustomed to the feel of strong arms clinging to his frame.

"Not a word," he heard Rodimus mutter against his throat, and he nodded to let the speedster know he had heard him.

Truthfully, Ultra Magnus had no words; he knew Rodimus was impulsive, immature, reckless, and had a vastly different priority system than his own, but this? It was far beyond any prediction Ultra Magnus could have made, and sadly enough, firmly outside his recent experience as well. How many centuries had it been since he had held another mech like this, without the immediacy of interfacing? To relish the simple touch of someone else, to draw in comfort and return it with the same motion? 

Never would he have guessed Rodimus would need reassurance on a physical level, and that thought shadowed his spark with shame. He had been aware of Rodimus' difficulties adjusting to the Matrix and his new leadership, but he hadn't guessed the dissonance ran this deeply. Shame on him indeed, for not fully tending to his Prime's needs.

Loosing a long vent, Ultra Magnus leaned back into his oversized chair, rearranging Rodimus to drape across his chassis so he took on more of his weight. One hand moved up to lightly stroke the edge of the bright spoiler and the tension in the young Prime's frame immediately relaxed. A gentle rev of Rodimus' engine vibrated against his large hands; he could feel the speedster smiling against his neck and he returned it as he shuttered his optics.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked after a moment, a slight frown creasing his face. "Rodimus, your frame is rather warm."

"I run hot," Rodimus mumbled, and Ultra Magnus had to suppress a shiver at the heated breath against his cabling. "I'm still a high performance frame, duh."

"Yes, but... Hmm." Ultra Magnus hummed as he spread his palm along the spoiler, pleased when Rodimus' engine turned over abruptly. " _This_ hot, though? When was the last time you had your medical diagnostics read?"

Rodimus laughed, loose and happy, his hands sweeping across Ultra Magnus' upper back in lazy circles. " _Yes,_ this hot. Fraggit, Mags, I know my own frame! Just chill with me."

"That's.. not quite possible, your heat is transferring to my own frame and in this proximity we-,"

Another laugh, loud against his audial before Rodimus pushed himself to sit up, grinning at him. "It's slang, Mags, let's just relax."

Ultra Magnus's optics narrowed as he tried to not smile; when Rodimus punched his arm, however, he couldn't resist.

"You knew that!" Rodimus accused. "So you _do_ pay attention to the humans."

"Of course I do," Ultra Magnus replied primly. His grip shifted, easily encircling Rodimus' slender waist and then some. "As much as I can spare. My priority is you."

Rodimus sobered quickly, something dangerously akin to guilt flickering across his face as he averted his gaze. "I can take care of myself."

This odd vulnerability was deeply concerning. Rodimus should have shrugged off that comment with his token pride and charisma, but that seemed lost in this strange show of uncertainty. "Rodimus," he said quietly, tucking a digit under the sharp chin and lifting Rodimus' face to meet his, "I was not questioning your ability as a leader and prowess as a warrior. I meant what I said; my highest priority is your well-being."

Rodimus lunged forward, clinging to his neck again. "I know, Mags. That's why I'm here. I only do this when I'm alone, y'know. Break down like this. Sometimes it's just too much and I kinda shut down so I just lock myself in my berthroom but..." He sighed, rubbing his face into the crook of Ultra Magnus' cables. "Tonight I just couldn't stand being alone and I remembered you're always up late doing paperwork and..."

Ultra Magnus hummed in agreement, letting Rodimus know he didn't have to finish his thought. He tilted his head, massaging the base of Rodimus' backstruts when he felt a new warmth pressed to his neck, a pliable wet heat that could only belong to- He stiffened, inventing sharply, and Rodimus moved to pull away. But, he tightened his grip before the young mech's chassis left his own, squeezing the lithe frame tightly to him.

"Uh.. Mags?"

His spark was whirling excitedly, the warmth tingling through his frame not just from transferred heat. It had been so long since another mech had purposefully sought him out, and his resulting rush of affection was dipping dangerously past a professional line.

He had always been soft on Hot Rod, and he was just beginning to understand exactly why that might be.

And true to form, Rodimus quickly understood his actions as invitation and began sliding a series of kisses up his throat, across his jaw and along an audial stack. Ultra Magnus' vents hitched when that hot glossa passed over swaths of sensitive plating, his hands instinctively moving to return the favour. Though it had been vorns since he'd had a hot lapful of mech, he hadn't forgotten how to make them whine and melt. Within seconds of placing proper, intimate attention on Rodimus' spoiler, he was rewarded with a breathy groan as the brightly coloured frame undulated beautifully. 

"Didn't plan on this," Rodimus sighed against his audial, the cheeky smile evident in his tone, "but  _Primus_ , I didn't know how much I wanted it- you."

"Me either," Ultra Magnus murmured, tilting his helm to press a kiss of his own to the speedster's flushed face. "I remember you strictly ordered 'no comments'-,"

"No!" Rodimus huffed, curling an arm around Ultra Magnus' helm to drag him down, "I take it back! Please, Mags!"

Ultra Magnus shivered at the plea, his processors immediately demanding more of Rodimus begging in that tone in a variety of compromising situations. "I would have to disobey regardless," he chuckled, pleased when Rodimus sighed in relief. "It would be impossible to be intimate with you without praising your frame, your voice, and-," he paused, waiting for Rodimus to peer up at him, "-the incredible amount of trust you just handed me."

Rodimus grinned just before sliding upwards, slotting their mouths together with a wicked gleam in his optics. 

Ultra Magnus had always served his Primes faithfully, ready to offer whatever they needed. Rodimus, however, was the exception; this time, his Prime was enthusiastically giving back with everything he was, but he was far too busy trying to locate all of Rodimus' hot spots to marvel. Later, when they were spent and overheated, he would send proper thanks to any of the old gods listening.

Much later.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus has a need for speed. Ultra Magnus needs the exact opposite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (unedited - will edit later this evening. Forgive any mistakes)

When Ultra Magnus had finally realised he truly, desperately wanted to give all of himself to his Prime, he had thought physical limitations would be the most crucial hurdle to overcome. He had overcome his shyness and asked Perceptor if their frames were compatible; though the exhaustive answer had been embarassing to listen to, he knew Perceptor was thorough to a fault, and completely trusted the scientist's encouragement to experiment. With proper preparation, he and Rodimus would be able to do most anything they would care to try. With Perceptor's reassurance, Ultra Magnus had put the issue of compatibility out of his mind.

However, Ultra Magnus was rapidly discovering he should revisit that concern.

While there was a certain amount of nervousness related to their first time together that Ultra Magnus would not be able to dismiss, he had felt happy and relaxed as he and Rodimus teased each other to running hot. He had had the good sense to move Rodimus to his oversized berth before they were too lost in each other; currently the young mech was spread out beneath him, vulnerable and decidedly not shy, a feast for both his optics and glossa. Ultra Magnus had taken great care to lavish attention to Rodimus' frame, deciding to focus from top to bottom.

He had only reached the base of Rodimus' chassis when the new issue began to take shape.

"Mags, c'monnn," Rodimus nearly wheezed, gripping an audial stack just to the point of prickly pain. "Let's go, let's go I need you."

Ultra Magnus paused, tilting his head as Rodimus whimpered at the lost contact. "I'm quite aware," he replied dryly, pressing a soothing kiss to the warm plating beneath him.

Rodimus lifted his head, his expression dazed and hungry. "So let's go, Mags, I'm  _dying_."

"You are not," Ultra Magnus scoffed in amusement, smoothing a hand down a shapely thigh. Rodimus' entire frame shook; it seemed the speedster was hypersensitive, making it difficult to find those sweet spots that made the young Prime sigh and melt. "Is this alright? Do you feel good?"

"I'm burning up, it's s- so good," Rodimus gasped, throwing one leg out and over one of his shoulders. "When- When are you gonna spike me?"

Ultra Magnus' optics flared with desire. "Shortly, I assure you, but I must prepare you first."

"Wha'?"

Ultra Magnus chuckled, shimmying further down the berth so he had full view of Rodimus' valve. It was just as flashy as the rest of him, yellow biolights tracing obscene patterns deeper into the valve, pulsing rapidly with Rodimus' sparkbeat. The red and white striped outer folds were already swollen, puffed prettily inside the dotted ring of sensory nodes that glowed with a faint red light. Obviously modded and crafted to be just as ostentatious as its owner, Ultra Magnus found himself thinking it looked utterly perfect.

" _Magnus_ ," Rodimus sobbed. "Mags please,  _please!_ "

"I could beg the same," Ultra Magnus replied hoarsely, licking his lips as he ducked his helm, in-venting sharply when the scent of lubricant overwhelmed him. "Everything about you makes me feel- I- It's indescribable, but can be summarised by an intense need for  _more_."

Rodimus groaned, nodding rapidly as he curled his leg up to the back of Ultra Magnus' neck, trying to tug him closer. His hands were roaming his own chassis, unconsciously tracing the flame patterns, and another bolt of lust shot through Ultra Magnus at the sight. He knew Rodimus was acutely aware of how attractive he was, but instead of being annoying, that confidence was incredibly arousing. Vents blasting a fresh wave of heated air, Ultra Magnus dipped his helm to nuzzle the plush folds, his faceplates immediately coated with lubricant. 

Above him, Rodimus cried out and arched, one hand finding an audial stack and gripping tightly. "Ohhh Mags wha'- What're you...?"

Grinning, Ultra Magnus spread his legs so he could lower himself further, his arms stretching up to play along the seams in Rodimus' sides. "What do you think?" he murmured, lips moving against the soft mesh. 

"But- B- But-!"

Ultra Magnus froze, glancing up as a thread of worry suffused his fields. "Rodimus? What is it?"

Rodimus struggled upwards, resting on his elbows as he stared back, confused. "I want you to spike me. I thought- Uh. I thought that's what we were doing?"

"Yes, absolutely," Ultra Magnus replied with a gentle smile, rubbing lightly at the slender waist. 

"...When?" Rodimus' optics narrowed, still looking adorably perplexed. "I'm ready, Mags, I'm so wet and ready  _please_."

Ultra Magnus frowned, pulling one hand back to brush the tip of a digit through the swollen folds. Rodimus choked, jerking in his grasp as his pleas melted into incoherent mumbling. "You are deliciously wet," he said slowly, "but you aren't stretched properly yet, Rodimus. You cannot take my spike without preparation."

"Prep- Preparation? Why not?"

He shouldn't have been surprised Rodimus hadn't perceived their size difference as an issue and yet... Ultra Magnus chuckled, lifting himself up to rest back on his folded legs. Rodimus whimpered, curling upward to chase his retreating hands, and he murmured nonsense to soothe him. Laying on his panel had encouraged it to remain closed, but exposed to the rapidly warming atmosphere triggered it to slide open. His spike had been pressurising as his arousal grew and he sighed gratefully as it extended. He rocked his hips forward slightly to put his spike on display, shyly glancing up at Rodimus and nearly laughing at the shocked expression. "Do you understand now, Rodimus?"

Rodimus hoarsely spat a string of curses as he lunged forward, scrabbling to gain a hold on Ultra Magnus' shoulders. "Frag me oh Mags please frag me, I want your spike in me  _right now!_ "

"That's what I'm telling you," Ultra Magnus replied patiently, nuzzling the warm faceplates pressed to his. "I have to stretch you first or this will hurt, and that is unacceptable. I refuse to rush this and risk damaging you."

_Finally_ recognition dawned in Rodimus' optics, quickly followed by a familiar pout. "How fast?" he asked breathlessly, one hand slipping down to stroke along the modded ridges of the turgid spike. "I can't wait, not after seeing just what you're packing. Wow, Mags, I didn't imagine you  _that_  big."

The implication that Rodimus had been fantasising about him sent another flush of heat cycling through Ultra Magnus' systems, and he coughed a soft vent to ease his embarrassment. 

"Lie back," he urged, sliding his hands down Rodimus' sides before gently pressing him down. "And if you stop interrupting me, perhaps you can convince me to go faster than I'd planned."

Rodimus groaned, obediently falling backwards, thighs spreading and hips canting up in the same motion. Ultra Magnus nearly choked at the lewd display, vents hitching at the implied trust and adoration Rodimus so freely gave him. A rare flash of jealousy flickered through his processors-  _who else has seen Rodimus this vulnerable?_ \- but he quickly tucked it away. Now was not the time to focus on petty issues. Now was definitely the time to hook a hand under Rodimus' aft, easily encompassing it with just five digits, and drag his Prime closer for exploitation. He momentarily ignored Rodimus' pleas as he resettled on his folded thighs, pulling Rodimus' hips up his chassis and smiling when he felt the flashy legs move to curl over his shoulders. 

Slowly, carefully he tugged the plushy lips close to his mouth, grinning when Rodimus barked a sharp curse at the delay. He was rapidly becoming addicted to this frustration that sang through Rodimus' voice and frame, and he set a standard reminder to not tease to the point of pain. Putting thought to action, he nuzzled the thin white stripes leading into the dripping valve, his glossa darting out to taste the shiny lubricant. Rodimus shook in his grip, howling, but Ultra Magnus simply huffed and pressed his face to the fleshy pads, his vents creaking fully open as his spike jumped hungrily at the thick scent. They were both dumping excess heat, steaming their end of the window, and Ultra Magnus couldn't resist a chuckle as he closed his optics.

A hand squeezed an audial stack, making him jerk. "Please," Rodimus whined, bucking his hips into Ultra Magnus' palm, "please, Mags, I can't- can't take it- I'm-,"

It seemed Rodimus spoke the truth; Ultra Magnus could taste the growing charge tickling his glossa, the red biolights blinking wildly as Rodimus writhed in his grasp. Well, Perceptor had mentioned one or two overloads would loosen the valve; Ultra Magnus was still unsure how that worked exactly, but he had refused to ask the scientist to explain in greater detail. Perceptor could get lost for hours in detail and his dignity would not have survived it.

And so he reluctantly released Rodimus' spoiler and brought it up, swirling the tip of a finger in lubricant before dipping it in the base of the valve, fitting snugly alongside his glossa. Rodimus stiffened and, fearing the worst, Ultra Magnus froze, crooking his finger to withdraw it, then chuffed in amusement as Rodimus' back arched with a cry. The valve clenched rhythmically on his digit, a fresh wash of lubricant flowing over his glossa as Rodimus wailed his designation. Even during climax, the ripple of Rodimus' frame was mesmerizing, graceful, and made Ultra Magnus' spike throb with neglect.

Gradually Rodimus relaxed, helm lolling to one side as he attempted to find Ultra Magnus' gaze. "N'done, are you?" the Prime slurred, his hands reaching up to grip at the thighs he was still braced against. "M'not done, Mags, keep- keep goin'."

Ultra Magnus tugged at Rodimus again- he had slipped with all that squirming- he gently probed a second finger to nestle in the valve, humming as his glossa trailed upwards. Now that he'd satisfied his curiosity exploring the exact tension of the puffed valve lips, it was past time to pay attention to the cheerfully glowing node pulsing at the apex of the loosened opening. Wary of any increased sensitivity, he settled for mouthing lightly at the node first.

Rodimus greatly disapproved of this gentle handling apparently, and after the Prime got a firm grip on his forearms, Ultra Magnus found the wet valve mashed to his face with a fierce roll of the slender hips. 

"More," Rodimus growled, his engine snarling as he stretched to lock his knees around Ultra Magnus' neck. " _Now_."

Oh, and that was so wrong, the way Ultra Magnus' frame jumped to attention at the authority in Rodimus' tone. Not questioning the surge of lust crackling between them, Ultra Magnus folded his glossa, sucking at the swollen nub as his fingers dug deeper, curling and scissoring to loosen the calipers further. Rodimus' chassis heaved with a shout, frame snapping taut as his valve spiraled down on his digits yet again. This time his cries were broken with unmistakable pleas, and so Ultra Magnus thrust his fingers in time with the calipers, licking and suckling at the node until Rodimus collapsed against his thighs.

"You're.. not playing.. fair," Rodimus panted, his helm slamming into the berth with a laugh. "Gonna wear me out before.. the main event."

"I'd best hurry then."

" _Finally!_ " Rodimus whined, wiggling so violently he slipped halfway down to the berth. "C'mon, Mags, I need your giant spike in me like twenty kliks ago."

Ultra Magnus' spike was in complete agreement with that assessment and he relented, arranging Rodimus more comfortably on the berth before kneeling between the quickly spread legs. His vents seized as he finally curled a hand around his spike, thumbing the tip before smearing Rodimus' lubricant down its length. He watched as his spike glistened; so obscene. So filthy. So incredibly arousing. 

Rodimus babbled incoherently, undulating his hips in invitation, optics sparking with lust, and Ultra Magnus could resist no longer. Using his grip on Rodimus' waist, he guided his spike to the brightly lit valve and- terrified and exhilarated-  _pushed_.

They both groaned aloud as the head of the spike easily sank between the plush lips. As worried as he had been, Ultra Magnus found little resistance and intense pleasure as the valve eagerly swallowed most of the shaft as well.

_Perceptor is always, always right. How does he do that?_

Arms wrapped around his neck, drawing Ultra Magnus down for a messy kiss as they laid there for a moment, venting harshly as their frames adjusted. Rodimus was already close to peaking again, bits of static jumping across where they touched and mouthed, their hisses of pleasure lost beneath the buzz of the growing charge. Though he couldn't quite hilt himself, Rodimus still felt like he'd been built specifically to take his spike, and Ultra Magnus' words of praise were lost in a jumble as he thrust once. 

"Do that again," Rodimus sobbed, throwing his helm back. "Frag- frag me!"

Ultra Magnus lowered his helm to rest next to Rodimus', renewing his grasp on the wriggling hips and thrust again,  _hard_. Rodimus keened, his charge tipping into overload for the third time, and Ultra Magnus could feel something  _twist_ \- and on the next thrust he fully seated himself. Their optics met, wide with disbelief, then they both laughed as Ultra Magnus rocked faster. Rodimus continued to be loud with his approval and encouragement- not surprising, but what did surprise Ultra Magnus was how much he loved Rodimus screaming in his audial with each thrust and whimpering for more each time he withdrew. With his own overload fast approaching, Ultra Magnus gave up trying to speak and opted to kiss and bite at his Prime's neck, determined to show his surging affection with every tool available.

The snug wet heat was pure bliss, Rodimus' valve clinging deliciously to his spike with each scrape back and forth, and the hot friction was building Rodimus toward yet another release, if the tight clenching was any indication. He wanted desperately to wait, to push Rodimus over the edge one more time, but his failsafes tripped and Ultra Magnus roared to completion, hips pistoning into Rodimus', his spike swelling briefly before releasing several waves of charged transfluid into the hot chamber. 

Just as the heated urgency began to fade, Ultra Magnus felt a hand trying to slip between their frames and he pulled his helm up to glance over.

"Please," Rodimus begged, pressing their chassis together, "just- just a bit more Mags please  _please_ one more? Just one more!"

Ultra Magnus nodded, still not trusting his vocaliser, and nudged Rodimus' hand out of the way. His hand, already slick with coolant and lubricant, slipped easily between them and the tip of his digit found that rosy anterior node. With just a small swirl and another thrust Rodimus was clutching at him, spitting static as his frame shivered and shook with one last release.

Ultra Magnus held him close through it, then rolled to collapse on his side, Rodimus tucking naturally in his hold. For several kliks they laid there, unmoving, silent, their vents and fields syncing as they calmed. Finally Rodimus stirred, only to curl closer and hide his face against the wide chassis.

"Wasn't what I expected," Rodimus mumbled.

Ultra Magnus reset his vocaliser. "I... admit, it wasn't what-,"

"Didn't think you'd let me stay."

Ultra Magnus blinked, surprised. "Of course I want you to stay. I- You don't believe I would shove you out the door after all that, do you?"

Rodimus shrugged, venting a heavy sigh. "Well, I guess it's just, I'm usually up and leaving as soon as I can. But this time I don't want to."

That saved file of the irrational jealousy tapped politely at his processes, but Ultra Magnus declined it again. "Rodimus," he said quietly, "this moment here, with you, is so far the best moment I've shared with you."

Rodimus laughed, pressing back to arch a brow ridge up at him. "You're crazy."

Ultra Magnus returned the look. "You don't agree?"

Immediately Rodimus' cheeky grin vanished, replaced with the oddly serious look he had worn several cycles ago when he'd invaded his office for a hug. "I didn't say that."

"Good." Ultra Magnus vented softly, tugging Rodimus against him again. They would have to get up shortly; their frames and his berth needed a good washing, and he didn't relish cleaning the cooling mess from between his thighs, but there was no hurry. This moment wouldn't last forever, but there was no need to rush it. 

"Love you. I think."

Ultra Magnus smiled, tilting his helm to place a kiss on his Prime's brow. "I think I love you too."


End file.
